By Chance
by ecstatictheatress
Summary: It was then that the fear that all the people in company thought they were free from returned as cloaked figures suddenly appeared in the middle of the room - wands drawn and eyes burning with a hate that cannot be measured.
1. Chapter One

_First off: I do not own Harry Potter   
Second off: Lily died and James lived   
Third off: This is my Original Character's story (but it is **not** a Mary Sue). James, Harry, and my friend's original characters to appear later!  
  
Have fun!   
  
_

The defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort spread like wildfire throughout the wizarding world. Celebrations occurred on every street corner. Many wizards, in their joy, disregarded the separation between wizard and muggle and pranced down the streets of muggle London shouting at the top of their lungs "You-Know-Who has been defeated! Open your windows and unlock your doors – there is no longer anything to fear!" This caused quite some confusion but most assumed the strangely dressed, ecstatic man or woman had simply escaped a mental hospital or something of that sort. 

In another part of the world, the more refined wizarding communities celebrated with elaborate dinner parties and festive balls. Old gowns were broken out of locked wardrobes and young men learned again how to fasten a bow-tie. The Potter Family mourned first for a few days over the loss of their nephew, cousin, or grandson's wife, Lily – whose loss of life saved their son Harry, who defeated the Dark Lord as a very phenomenal one year old child. Within the Potter's Manor there was also a child; a one year old girl with astoundingly red hair – uncharacteristic of the Potter family. She was learning to walk while wearing a dress that was far too elaborate for her age when she entered one of these grand parties with her hand wrapped around one finger of her fathers. On his right arm he escorted his wife and the girl's mother, Isabella, whose cascading brown curls framed her face elegantly. A man waiting for them at the entrance to the ballroom announced their names "Nathaniel Edmund Potter escorting his wife, Isabella Louise, and their daughter Roxanne."

Roxanne looked around the room. Having never been allowed inside it before, she was amazed by the way the ceiling seemed to twinkle just as do the stars in the sky. She released her father's hand and began to wander about the room, gazing at everything for an extended period of time. Nathaniel and Isabella began to dance with many other couples in the centre of the room which seemed to be lit by nothing but moonlight while the musicians played. Roxanne stared at her mother who moved with such grace and her father who led her mother – both smiling as they caught each other's glances. Her attention was quickly drawn away, however, by the ability that the dinner rolls seemed to have to roll under things so neatly and she soon found herself chasing one under a table.

It was then that the fear that all the people in company thought they were free from returned as cloaked figures suddenly appeared in the middle of the room - wands drawn and eyes burning with a hate that cannot be measured.

Suddenly, all that could be heard were sour notes from the musicians, screams, curses, and collapsing bodies. Frightened and confused, Roxanne began to cry. The table she sat under was overturned by a woman's lifeless body that was carelessly tossed aside by one of the cloaked intruders. Chance struck as Roxanne was glanced over by all eyes. She slowly began to crawl up to the skirts of the fallen woman but suddenly found herself being scooped up into the arms of her father. He shushed her and continued to run, trying to doge the attackers, He made it only a few more feet, however. Even after he had fallen, Roxanne remained obediently quiet with her eyes shut tightly as the screams finally ended and all that remained was laughter.

The intruders left as abruptly as they came and an eerie silence settled over the ballroom. Roxanne, lying on her back, looked up at the shimmering ceiling which was now dirtied by a small, ugly green cloud. Too young to understand both death and evil, she began to cry, simply because that was all she knew to do.


	2. Chapter Two

James Potter sat staring out the window of his current home in room 12 of the Leaky Cauldron with his son, Harry, sleeping quietly in his crib. A lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead was all that remained from Harry's confrontation with Lord Voldemort. Yet again James had begun to silently review every last moment he had spent with his wife Lily in their secret home which had been destroyed by Voldemort's attack. James held his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. Seconds later, there was an abrupt and urgent knocking on the door. James looked mournfully at it before standing and walking to it. He wrapped his fingers around the door knob and turned it very slowly.

Behind the door he discovered Professor Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts, the witchcraft school that James had attended from ages 11 to 18, the school where he met Lily.... Professor McGonagall's presence was not alarming to James – she had been checking on him at least once daily since Voldemort's fall and Lily's death. However, when James looked to her arms he was surprised to see a sleeping baby girl no older than Harry. James looked back to McGonagall's eyes, which were worn with heavy burdens.

"There's been another attack, James." She said. McGonagall rarely addressed James by his first name, but it seemed inappropriate for her to otherwise considering the news that she bore. "I'm afraid to inform you that your remaining relatives have..." she paused, as if she was trying to think of another way to phrase the news, "have been murdered."

James somberly cast his glace downward. McGonagall continued.

"It was another splurge of Deatheaters. However, it's been taken care of." James nodded "This child was found at the site in the arms of your uncle by one of the Ministry investigators. They were hoping you might know her."

James nodded slowly, his hand still gripping the door knob in an angry sort of way.

"Do you know her?"

"My cousin, Roxanne..." he said softly, "But why did you bring her here?"

"She has no other place to go." McGonagall's face filled with pity as she spoke, "You're the last of her family, Potter. But she isn't your child. You have a choice here – keep her with you or I can take her to a foster home."

James didn't speak but turned toward the window again and leaned slightly backward against the wall. His eyes glazed over as if he was about to cry. Old tracks of tears down his face suggested that he had cried before. However, tears did not fall and he remained unspoken. McGonagall seemed to interpret this as a 'no' and turned from the room.

"Wait." James said unexpectedly. He turned to face the door again and McGonagall turned to face him. He extended his arms and McGonagall passed Roxanne to him. Looking at his old Professor with an expression of loss, he slowly closed the door.

Returning to his chair facing the window, he placed Roxanne in the crib beside Harry. Both children slept on as James seated himself and with his elbows pushing up from his knees and his head in his hand and his fingers in his hair.


End file.
